What a delight to have a long, long walk with Charlie today, and to find two separate clusters of turtlehead blooming in the wetlands––my first sighting this season. It’s such a wonderful plant, growing in the wetlands, attracting bumblebees and hummingbirds, growing in shade or sun, as long as it’s moist. It’s one of the later blooming wildflowers, so I always look for it in August, or, and now, in early September. We got a long ramble, and there were many hikers on the trails today. Charlie had a good swim and dove for rocks at the boat landing in Rocky Narrows. As soon as I went into the yard this morning, after the Special One coaxed me out, coffee in hand, I saw the floss of my milkweed plants blown into the grass. The rains of autumn will will drive the seeds into the earth and they will wait until spring to germinate. I have been doing some weeding and a little bit of watering. I want to coax the blooms back to my butterfly weed. And my rhododendrons are drying up. I’ve lost quite a few young plantings I put in last year. Today I didn’t swim, because the long hike with Charlie felt like just enough. I had work to do indoors. Craving some writing time; wrote a blog. Tonight, after dinner, after running across the yard and the field, I sat on the rock by the river with the Special One for a long time under white, feathery clouds and a white quarter moon that played hide and seek. We waited and waited for what might appear. A heron rose up from the bank a ways up and flew down the river over our heads. We watched it approach and fly out of sight. The Special One said, “More!” But there were no more herons. The geese came and went. And we were content. Walked back toward the house as dusk approached. I am eager to see where the wild milkweed emerges in the spring.